


Out of Control

by flightofdeath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, one day i'll bloody figure out these tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightofdeath/pseuds/flightofdeath
Summary: Sirius Black was born with everything: pureblood family, brilliant mind, and gorgeous looks. But everything came down to who or what was truly in control.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.

Sirius Black, first year, was one of the best in his class, despite him never putting any effort in. He aced tests without studying, passed examinations with a lazy flick of the wand, and answered questions carelessly in class as he tilted his chair onto its back legs. But despite this charade of carelessness, he had a very deep need for something.  
  
More specifically, someone.  
  
Sirius had come to Hogwarts alone, and despite his best efforts, seemed to remain alone. Too Slytherin to be a Gryffindor, too Gryffindor to be a Slytherin. And the Black name seemed to keep the other houses at bay.  
It was until he agreed to something as little as a tutoring session. Uncharacteristically enough, he agreed to help a fellow first-year who seemed to be missing class more and more. Each day, they would meet in an empty classroom, 15 minutes after the start of lunch. It was just enough time to run into the Great Hall and eat something, then run to the classroom to start.  
  
On the first day of their tutoring sessions, Sirius ran into the Great Hall. He snatched a thick piece of ham from the center of the table with a napkin and speared a couple pieces of bread onto his wand. Ignoring the looks shot at him by teachers and students, Sirius sprinted out. There was no way Sirius was going to be late. It was all planned out in his mind: his new student would enter, just in time to see Sirius, legs stretched out in the windowsill, carelessly munching on some bread.  
  
All that was shattered as soon as Sirius flung open the door to the room. The door hit the wall with a louder SLAM than Sirius had intended, and he immediately felt a pang of guilt as the boy flinched. Sirius grabbed the door, and gently closed it. The other boy relaxed almost immediately, and ran a hand through his curls in what seemed to be a self-soothing gesture. He closed his book and stood from where he had been curled in the windowsill.  
  
Crossing the room quickly, Sirius extended his hand. “I’m Sirius Black.”  
  
One of the boy’s eyebrows arched momentarily. “Well, Sirius, I guess it’s safe to assume that you aren’t like the rest of your family.” He gestured vaguely at Sirius’ Gryffindor robes, then at the room around them. “I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.”  
  
They shook hands firmly, and Sirius dragged a desk over to the windowsill where Remus had been seated. Sirius had chosen this classroom mainly due to its abundance of natural lighting during most of the day. “Did you eat yet?” Sirius asked.  
  
“No,” Remus responded, looking slightly surprised.  
  
Sirius shoved over the piece of ham and both pieces of bread over to Remus. “Here,” Sirius declared. “Eat these.”  
  
Remus looked at the parcel suspiciously. “Wasn’t this your lunch?”  
  
“I already ate,” Sirius replied, surprised at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Plus, I refuse to teach someone who has an empty stomach. Must be me.”  
  
“Well, thank you,” Remus said sheepishly as he unwrapped the ham and tore some of the bread.  
  
“Really, it’s nothing.”  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes as Remus ate, quickly and efficiently. Sirius couldn’t help but notice his eyes, the inhuman golden color. Within a few minutes, Remus brushed off his hands, then the desk, piling the crumbs carefully into the napkin before folding it and shoving it into his robe pocket.  
  
“Are you ready, then?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Nonverbal spells already, eh?”

Sirius sat close with Remus, elbows bumping with every movement as they shifted around parchment and quills and books. 

“Yeah,” Remus said absentmindedly, scrawling yet another sentence from the textbook onto his roll of parchment. He glanced up to see Sirius leaning back in his chair, front legs tipping off the ground as he twirled his wand around his fingers. 

Sirius let his chair drop with a thud onto all four legs. “A bit of a challenge, then? We’re first years. How do you even know that I know how to do nonverbal spells?”

Remus dropped his quill on the desk. “Because you’re Sirius bloody Black,” he shot back, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna have to learn them eventually, and plus, you use them all the bloody time!”

“A valid point, my friend,” Sirius nodded. Remus’ stomach jumped a little.

Friend?

Sirius appeared to not have noticed it at all, continuing on. “Yes, Remus, I do know nonverbal spells, and I’ll teach you under one condition.”

Remus nodded, already familiar with Sirius’ antics after just a couple weeks of lessons. “Yeah, yeah, what do you need?”

“It’s not what, exactly,” Sirius said, grabbing Remus’ shoulder and turning him to face him. “You, Mr. Lupin, have to tell me a story. Maybe your childhood? Favorite myths? Maybe why you work so hard when you could be passing classes with less effort than me?”

“Bloody hell, Sirius,” Remus sighed. 

“I’m not kidding,” Sirius said with a nod. “You could practically be teaching me, especially with how much you keep your nose in a book.”

Remus nodded, knowing he couldn't convince Sirius to do anything else. “I’ll tell you a bliddy story, alright? But we start nonverbal spells tomorrow, agreed?”

 

Sirius nodded emphatically. “Done, done, and done.”

Remus sighed again. What could he tell Sirius? Probably not about his childhood; it had been marred by the bite, and spending nights locked in a cement basement probably weren’t appropriate. Suddenly, the thought snapped into his mind.

“Have you heard the myths of Romulus and Remus?”

Sirius perked up, instantly interested. “No,” he said. “Do tell me more.”

“Romulus and Remus were born from Rhea Silva, a woman sworn to be a Vestal Virgin, one of the priestesses of the Roman goddess of the hearth, Vesta. When she took the oath to be a priestess, she swore to be a virgin forever.”

Sirius crinkled his nose. “Not the life for me, I think.”

Remus smirked slightly, trying to ignore his stomach which had decided it wanted to exit his body. “No one really knows who their father was, but Rhea claimed that a divine being had come and lay with her. Some speculate that it was Mars, god of war, or the demigod Hercules. It became painfully obvious that she had broken her vows when she gave birth to two sons, twins.”

“Just a wee bit,” Sirius interjected, holding his fingers about a millimeter apart. 

“The punishment for breaking the vows was death, but the king at the time feared the retribution of the gods, should Rhea’s claims be true. So instead, he ordered a servant to leave them to death by burying them alive, exposure to sun, or throw them into the Tiber River.”

“To a baby?” Sirius gasped.

“Yes, to a baby,” Remus informed him. “His reasoning being that if they were killed by the elements, he would escape the retribution of the gods. But the servant took mercy on them. He put them in a basket and set it afloat on the Tiber.”

 

“That seems counterintuitive,” Sirius pointed out, raising a finger. “It seems to be that they would die anyways. River travel and all, plus rocks, and maybe a poorly made basket…”

Remus cut him off. “But they did survive. The god of the Tiber River, Tibernus, led them to safety. They were discovered by a she-wolf, Lupa.”

“Okay, they really should have died. I mean, really now, a wolf?”

“Do you know what Romulus and Remus grew up to do?”

“Did they grow up at all or did they die?”

Remus flicked Sirius. “Lupa raised them, then gave them to farmers, who raised them to adulthood. Romulus and Remus eventually built Rome.”

 

“Rome?” Sirius gaped. “Like, the actual, real, Rome?”

 

“Yeah,” Remus said sheepishly. “That’s how the myth goes.”

“So, Remus, were you also raised by wolves?” Sirius leaned in a little closer. 

“Well, not quite,” Remus said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh?”

“I wasn’t raised by wolves, exactly, but I wasn’t raised by my birth parents either. My birth mother left me by a river with a slip of paper that had ‘REMUS’ written on it. Eventually I was found by the Lupins, Hope and Lyall.” Remus leaned in to lock eyes with Sirius. “Not quite what you were expecting, no?”

“Not what I was expecting, but a good story nonetheless.” Sirius grinned, not looking away.

“So what about you, Mr. Black? How is the life of a pureblooded wizard?” Remus smirked slightly.

Sirius’ grin faltered momentarily, and he broke eye contact as he sat up. “How about we leave my stories for another day? Dinner is soon.”

Remus sat up as well, watching as Sirius quickly packed his books and parchment. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“That you will,” Sirius said, giving a mock salute. “Nonverbal spells on the curriculum.”

Remus watched as Sirius strode off.

Sirius felt Remus’ eyes watch him go.

Both of them had the same thought.

_There’s something more happening there._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who still doesn't own anything?

The next week, Sirius found himself in Professor McGonagall’s office.

“Professor, love, how would you explain nonverbal spells to someone?”

McGonagall raised her eyebrows at the 11-year-old standing before her. “First of all, Mr. Black, it is inappropriate to address your professors as ‘love’. Secondly, how have nonverbal spells come up in your curriculum? You’re a first year student.”

“You know you love me, professor,” he said with a slight smirk, before quickly sobering.. “But in actuality, Remus has asked me to instruct him in nonverbal spells as well.”

“So what seems to be the issue, Mr. Black? Are you unable to perform nonverbal spells?” McGonagall folded her hands on the desk in front of her.

“I’m shocked that you would doubt me so,” Sirius said, clutching his chest. “Of course I can do nonverbal spells.”

“So how can you not explain it?” McGonagall looked at the boy seated before her.

“Well,” Sirius said, pacing across the room, “it’s one of those things that happens in my head and I can’t explain it. Like, I think really really hard about it, and how much I want it to work, what it’ll look like after I cast the spell, then you just sort of yell it really loudly in your head. But that seems like a shoddy explanation to give someone. Doesn’t it?” He stopped pacing to look at McGonagall for answers. 

McGonagall stared in wonder at the boy before her. He was nothing less than a miracle, coming from a line of Slytherins, sorted into Gryffindor, and now teaching magic that was taught to 6th years. “Well,” she said, trying to conceal her amazement, “it seems to me that you have explained it. Although that isn’t the perfect explanation, I do believe Mr. Lupin will understand.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” 

“Well, then, perhaps the word ‘visualize’ is the one you’re looking for. Visualize, then, as you said, ‘yell it really loudly in your head.’” McGonagall gave a firm nod to Sirius. “It seems to me that you would make for a very fine teacher, Mr. Black.”

“Not interested,” Sirius said, waving his hand in the air. “I’d get bored too quickly.”

“Understandable. Is there anything else I can do for you, then, Mr. Black?”

Sirius came to a halt in front of her. “No, I think that’s everything. Thanks, professor!” And with that and a cheeky grin, he sauntered out of the room.

“Oh, Merlin,” McGonagall sighed, shaking her head.

* * *

“Oh, Remus…” Sirius sang as he tossed open the door to their classroom. “Are you ready for nonverbal spells?”

“Tell me something,” Remus said without looking up from his book. “Do you make an effort to make as much noise as possible?”

“Always,” Sirius said brightly. “How else would you know I’m in the room without my ever-lovely voice?”

Remus finally looked up from his book. “I’d love it if you weren’t in the room while I’m trying to read.”

Sirius swooned dramatically and laid on the floor. “Oh, Remus, you wound me so,” he cried, shaking out his growing hair and laying his arm across his eyes.

“Get up, you prat,” Remus said, finally rising from the windowsill to stand over Sirius. “Come on, get up,” he said, delivering a light kick to Sirius’ exposed side.

In an instant, Sirius was off the ground and on the other side of the room. Remus’ eyes widened as he stared at the other boy who was pressed into the corner, head pushed into shoulder, with his arms thrown up in front of him and eyes squeezed shut.

Neither of them moved.

Remus opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Sirius, I - ” His voice petered out as Sirius didn’t move. “I - wha - a - ” He took a small step towards Sirius, feeling a pang as Sirius’ curled form jumped at the sound of his footfall. 

Remus stood frozen for several seconds, afraid to move. Thankful (for once) for his lanky form, he crossed the room in six massive steps, hating himself as Sirius’ small form jolted and shrank more into the wall with every step. “Sirius,” he whispered, kneeling in front of him. He reached out with a trembling hand, hovering above Sirius’ shoulder. After a moment, he laid his hand as gently as he could, feeling Sirius shaking. “Sirius,” he whispered again.

After a moment, Sirius looked up. Remus almost shed a tear as he looked into Sirius’ eyes; for once, they were not smiling or focused or laughing - they were broken. Sirius slowly lowered his hands, but he didn’t uncurl.

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them seemed willing to break the silence.

“Well,” Sirius said, voice cracking, “you wanted to know what the life of a pureblooded wizard is like.”

“Oh, Sirius,” Remus sighed almost inaudibly. 

“Welcome to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black,” Sirius spat.

_To be continued…_


End file.
